


Life Is a Runaway Train

by TheSingleRose



Category: Big Bang (Band), K-pop
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1960s, Ambiguous Relationships, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Attempt at Humor, Fluff, Friendship, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Language, Recreational Drug Use, Summer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-20 12:10:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13717416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSingleRose/pseuds/TheSingleRose
Summary: It’s 1968, change is in the air, and Jiyong and Seunghyun are about to embark on the biggest adventure of their lives.





	1. a whole life down to one box

**Author's Note:**

> Jiyong is going into the military on February 27th and the author has a lot of feelings.  
> I Beta my own work so I'm sorry for any errors.  
> Title and inspiration from Already Gone by Sugarland.

The sweltering temperature of the auditorium crouches down upon Jiyong and his fellow classmates. One lone fan whirs in the corner of the stage but it is not enough to provide relief for the soon-to-be graduates sitting onstage.  The teenagers squirm uncomfortably in their seats, using the program guides as fans in attempt to create some sort of cool breeze, the unforgiving fabric of their gowns sticking to their skin with sweat. In the center of the stage, Principal Jeon stands behind a podium, facing the families in the audience. His suit is a putrid shade of brown, the sleeves stop a good inch before his wrists, and his tie is crooked. He monotonously drones on about the promising futures of the high school graduating class, claiming that they will look back upon their time in high school fondly. Next to Jiyong, his best friend Seunghyun snorts at that last remark.

_____

Jiyong met Seunghyun his freshman year of high school. They were both forced to be part of the set construction crew for the school production of _Cabaret_ by an overzealous English teacher who swore she saw a “the spark of theater in their eyes begging to be released.” Turns out that the spark she saw was just the both of them being coincidently high in her Shakespeare class.

Crew turned out to not be too bad as the two boys bonded while sawing planks of wood jaggedly. After the head of the crew team yelled at them for ruining a perfect piece of wood, they were moved onto the painting crew. It was then that Jiyong noticed that Seunghyun had a true gift for painting. He carefully observed the other boy meticulously paint the sign for the Kit Kat Klub, realizing that the he was destined for bigger and better things that lay outside of their small town in upstate New York.

One night, after stealing a bottle of crappy red wine from Seunghyun’s parent’s, the two teenagers lay with their heads together on the ground of Seunghyun’s bedroom, laughing and telling stories in hushed voices.

“Shhh,” Jiyong said putting his finger to Seunghyun’s lips, giggling drunkenly to himself. “Don’t be so _loud_.”

Seunghyun chuckled and pulled Jiyong’s finger away from his face. “You’re the one being loud,” he pointed out, significantly soberer than his friend. Jiyong picked up on the weight in Seunghyun’s dark eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Seunghyun sighed and looked up at the ceiling. He still had his glow in the dark stars up from when he proudly placed them there when he was eight. He would not ever admit it to anyone, but instead of “forgetting” to take them down as he often claimed, he left them up to keep a last glimmer of childhood whimsy alive in his room.  “Nothing’s wrong. Sorry, I’m being a grouch.”

Jiyong sat up, taking a little longer than normal due to his inebriation affecting his balance. He stared down questioningly at Seunghyun who was still laying down flat on his back. “You can tell me anything, you know. You’re my best friend.”

“I’m sure best friends don’t tell each other about the time they made out with the principal’s son in the janitor’s closet at school. Total cliché move, by the way.”

“I wanted my American teenage movie moment, Seunghyun!”

“And to make Seungri shut up about how he gets more action than you.”

“Ugh,” Jiyong rolled his eyes at the thought of that insufferable freshmen he’d been stuck helping with his math homework. Jiyong was caught smoking weed in the back alley of the school and was given the option of tutoring someone for a semester or two months of Saturday detentions. Needless to say, Jiyong is too popular to let his Saturdays go to waste. “Seungri doesn’t know when to mind his own business.”

Seunghyun snorted. “You’re just mad that Seungri might be more attention seeking than you are.” That last remark earned him a light slap on the arm.

“You’re trying to change the subject by annoying me. What’s wrong? This is supposed to be our suburban mom wine and gossip night and you’re acting all moody.”

Seunghyun was silent for a few beats. “I don’t know what I’m doing with my life.”  He looked away from the ceiling to make eye contact with the shorter man. Jiyong sighed before laying down so that his head was next to Seunghyun’s before handing him the bottle of wine. Seunghyun took a long sip before continuing. “I got into the University of the Arts in London. Full ride.”

Jiyong’s eyes widened and he sat up quickly, jostling Seunghyun in the process. “That’s amazing!” he shouted, and it was Seunghyun's turn to shush him. “Seunghyun,” he whispered intently, taking his friend’s hand, “you need to take this opportunity. This is what you’ve been waiting for.”

“I don’t know….”

“What is it that’s making you hesitate?”

“Everything. Nothing. My mom. The uncertain future of an artist. I can’t understand British accents.”

“Number one, British accents are hot, you’re just uncultured. Number two, be selfish, Seunghyun for once in your life. Follow _your_ dreams. Do what _you_ want.” Jiyong leveled him with a stern look. He knew that his best friend too often let himself sink into the background and had other people make decisions for him, and dammit he wasn’t going to let that happen with something this big.

A silence overtook the duo with Jiyong carefully observing the expressions on Seunghyun’s face and Seunghyun laying with his eyes closed, thinking.  Just as Jiyong began to think he’d fucked up and overstepped his boundaries, Seunghyun broke the silence.

“My mom had my whole future mapped out for me. I made the travel baseball league in eighth grade, the Westchester County Tigers. First step was leading my team to the championship as the starting pitcher. Second step was getting scouted by the major leagues. Third step was getting drafted by a major league baseball team and making enough money for myself so that I’d never have to worry about it again.  With my stats the way they were and how I was improving, my couch said it was completely plausible that I’d get picked up by the major leagues.” Seunghyun opened his eyes and looked at Jiyong. “My mom knew what it was like to be a starving artist. She never wanted me to go through the same things as her.” Growing up in a single parent household with his mother’s main source of income being her sculptures and the occasional waitressing job, Seunghyun and her often struggled to make ends meet often. “She saw baseball as a way out of poverty.” Seunghyun let out a wry laugh. “But you know what happened.”

“Your back injury,” Jiyong replied cautiously, not wanting to dredge up bad memories.

The injury happened the summer before freshman year, before the two of them met, but Jiyong still knew the story. Seunghyun was set to be a starting pitcher on the high school varsity baseball team, but that dream all came crashing down after he and his mother got into a terrible car crash, leaving Seunghyun with a herniated disc in his back.  He was fortunate enough to not have to go through surgery, but the injury left him unable to ever play sports again.  It was then that his physical therapist suggested turning to painting to overcome the trauma.  “It’s a very calm and healing experience,” he explained, pushing his glasses up his nose.  “Plus, it may become a new hobby since sports are out of the question.”

“But you’re not your mother, Seunghyun,” Jiyong said, brining Seunghyun back to the present as he laid his hand his hand tenderly against the other boy’s cheek. “If you just talk to her and explain that you have a full ride. She’ll understand what this means to you.”

Seunghyun stared up at Jiyong, his eyes conveying a thousand emotions that Jiyong couldn’t begin to decode. Instead of replying, he takes the wine bottle and poured the rest out equally into his and Jiyong’s cup. The two spent the rest of the night watching _Bewitched_ reruns on the crappy television in Seunghyun’s living room.

Jiyong didn’t bring up the University of Arts to Seunghyun again after that night. However, one day while he was in the music room practicing a little song he had been composing for the piano, Seunghyun approached him about the topic. Usually when Jiyong was making music (his “composer zone” his friend Youngbae called it), Seunghyun would just sit quietly in the corner and do his homework, letting the relaxing piano melodies wash over him. However today, when Seunghyun walked into the practice room he sat on the piano bench next to Jiyong.

“I told my mom about the University of the Arts,” he said.

Jiyong froze, fingers hovering over the keys. “Go on,” he prompted.

Seunghyun took a deep breath. “I told her I got a full ride and that I wanted to go. It took some needling, but she eventually agreed and said she’d support me going.”

“Oh, that’s amazing!” Jiyong engulfed Seunghyun in a tight hug and gave him a quick peck against his temple. “I’m so happy for you!”

“She didn’t like the idea at first, but after talking it out, she came around,” Seunghyun said, pulling away from the hug slowly.  “She understood that this means the world to me.”

“I have some good news as well as long as we’re sharing. I accepted got into the music composition program at NYU!”

A large smile spreads across Seunghyun’s face.  “That’s amazing!” he cheered and the two embraced in another hug again. “I knew that they’d accept you. They’d be foolish not to.”

“Look at us, a pair of artists ready to take over the world.” Jiyong joked. “I saw we celebrate with ice cream! My treat.”

“Your parent’s own an ice cream parlor,” Seunghyun said, rolling his eyes fondly. “It’s free for you.”

“Hey, I’m a thoughtful man. It’s the intention that counts.” Jiyong retorted before grabbing Seunghyun’s wrist and dragging him out of the practice room and in the direction of his parent’s ice cream parlor.

_____

Jiyong adjusts the graduation cap on his head in hopes to block out the harsh glare of the stage lights, but it refuses to budge, and he remembers all the pins his mom placed in her hair in order to make sure the cap didn’t move.

“You only graduate high school once, and I want you to look cute in all the pictures,” Jiyong’s mother had gushed as she placed the cap on his head before their family drove over to the high school for the ceremony.

Just as Jiyong begins to believe that Principal Jeon is going to hold his class hostage in the auditorium forever, he ends his speech and instructs the students to stand up. A slight breeze from the rustling gowns provides momentary relief in the sweltering room when the students stand. Craning his neck, Jiyong spots his mother and father, both with tears in both of their eyes.

“Friends and Families, I present to you the class of 1968!” Principal Yang announces and the audience cheers. Around him, Jiyong’s classmates launch their graduation caps in the air.

“Come on, Jiyong!” Seunghyun cheers. “Don’t worry about your hair. Have some fun!” Seunghyun gently prods at Jiyong’s graduation cap. That’s all it takes to convince Jiyong to detangle his cap from the pins keeping it in place on his head and toss it up in the air with his fellow classmates.

“Jiyong! Seunghyun!” The two guys turn to see their friend Chaerin running at them from across the stage. “We graduated! We did it!” She envelopes both guys in a big group hug.

“This is going to be the best summer ever!” Seunghyun says. “We are going to have so much fun together.”

“Ugh, maybe for you two, but not for me. My parents are forcing me to work at their ice cream parlor again,” Jiyong whines.

“C’mon,” Seunghyun chides. “It won’t be that bad, especially since your parents own the place I bet the hours will be even more flexible for you, not to mention the free ice cream for us!” Seunghyun and Chaerin high five at that last comment.

“Don’t worry, Jiyong. I have a good feeling about this summer,” Chaerin rests her hand reassuringly on his shoulder, a soft smile resting on her face.

“You know what? You’re right,” Jiyong says, nodding at Chaerin’s words.  “This is our last summer before we all go to college, so we gotta make this summer kickass.” His two friends cheer loudly at that sentiment before they’re pulled away by their respective families.

_____

July soon melts into August, and the number of Jiyong's friends in town slowly decreases as people head off to their respective universities. The day that Jiyong leaves for college is a bittersweet one. On one hand, this is the day Jiyong has been waiting for his entire life.  He can’t wait to live in a glitzy city, attend a top-notch university, and, of course, compose music. On the other hand, it’s the last day he’ll see Seunghyun for four years. Part of Seunghyun’s mother’s deal about him going to art school in London is that he won’t be able to come home for the breaks because of expensive flight and boat tickets.

Just as Jiyong is placing the last cardboard box in the back of his mom’s car, he feels a tap on his shoulder. “Look who’s here,” his mother whispers in his ear. Jiyong turns around to see Seunghyun standing on the edge of his driveway, hands stuffed in pockets and looking at the ground.

Jiyong walks up to him. “Hey,” he says softly, and touches his arm.

“I don’t know what to say,” Seunghyun says, looking up. “I’m no good at goodbyes.”

Jiyong gently punches him in the arm. “This isn’t a goodbye at all, Seunghyun. You think I’m letting you get off that easily? I will personally spend my own money to fly to London and hunt you down if you don’t send me regular postcards and letters of everything you’re doing!” Jiyong may have a tendency to be dramatic (very dramatic, according to Youngbae) but he is completely serious about this threat.  “We’re a couple of artists about to take over the world, remember?”

Seunghyun chuckles and nods his head. “Here, I wrote this for you,” he says and pulls out a folded piece of paper from his pocket. “I thought maybe I could express myself better in writing.”

Jiyong smiles, feeling tears pricking at the corner of his eyes. He takes the letter and then pulls Seunghyun into a tight hug. “I love you,” he whispers in Seunghyun’s ear before pressing a kiss on his cheek. Jiyong pulls away to look Seunghyun straight in the eyes. “You’re going to knock their socks off over there, you hear me? Those Brits won’t know what hit them.”

“Same goes for you. I should’ve sent out a warning to the NYU boys about what a handful you are.”

Jiyong snickers at that last comment, pulling Seunghyun into one more hug before climbing into his mother’s car.  As they drive away, Jiyong looks through back window at Seunghyun who’s still standing at the end of his driveway. When they make eye contact, Seunghyun lifts up a hand and gives him a wave. He’s smiling the exact same way he did when he first told Jiyong his name, and Jiyong feels his heart clench at the sight. When Seunghyun becomes nothing more than a blip in the distance, Jiyong turns around opens the letter.

_Dear Jiyong,_

_I realized I haven’t really ever written you a letter before, so I better get in the practice for when I’m an ocean away. I’ll try to make this letter not too cliché, but I also know how you love your clichés anyway, so I know you won’t mind either way._

_Words cannot describe how much you mean to me. You’ve been by side through the highs and lows and I hope I can only try to repay you for your infinite support. I know that you’re going to do amazing things at NYU and you better keep me updated in your letters._

_I’ll see you in four years. That’s a promise I’m making to you. Until then, know that I love you._

_Your best friend,_

_Seunghyun._

Inside the folded letter is a small six inches by six inches painting with the words _so you don’t forget about me xx_ written on its back. It’s a painting of the two of them at graduation in their caps and gowns, gazing at each other with fond smiles. It is only looking at the painting that Jiyong registers that he is crying. He wipes away his tears and places and places the letter pack in his pocket. 

_____

The first thing he does when he arrives at his NYU dorm is hang up the painting right above his bed.


	2. sparks fly like a flame to a paper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daesung and Jiyong talk about love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Daesung enters the military on March 13th, and the author still has a lot of feelings and feels bad that he wasn't included in the previous chapter. I edit my own work, so I apologize for any mistakes.

“How did you know you were in love?”

The question startles Jiyong, almost causing him to drop the spliff he was about to light. Jiyong turns onto his side to face Daesung. The other boy stares up at the night sky, gaze fixed and refusing to make eye contact. The two teenagers are laying on a blanket tucked away in the corner of the large field behind Jiyong’s house. The forest that surrounds the field casts dark shadows, masking them. Perfect place for a chill smoking session. Daesung seems to have forgotten about the chill part. 

“What makes you think I know anything about love?”

Jiyong is far from an expert on the subject, and Daesung knows that. The only official relationship he’s had was with Jihyun in sixth grade. It lasted an awkward month and ended up with her breaking up with him because he didn’t want to kiss her. It was no surprise then when he had his big gay awakening freshmen year of high school. It was most definitely related to him watching Sean Connery in  _ Goldfinger _ run around in his tailored suit. Needless to say, Jiyong wouldn’t know what love was even if it punched him in the face.

Daesung blinks at him. “Because you’re in love.”

Apparently, Daesung has not gotten the memo.

“You know I was joking about Elvis Presley, right? I mean, not about the part about how he’s a total fox, but about the part about me being in love with him. I said that to mess with Chaerin because she’s got a huge crush on him. I bet she kisses the poster above her bed goodnight.”

Daesung sighs and rolls his eyes. “You’re the most obtuse person I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

“Obtuse, wow. Someone’s been studying for the SAT," Jiyong giggles, poking Daesung in the side.

“You’re avoiding the question.”

Jiyong stiffens at the edge in Daesung's voice.

To say that Jiyong and Daesung are close friends would be to misunderstand their relationship completely. More so, they are two people that understand each other.

"You're going to meet a lot of people in this life," Jiyong's mom had once told him. "The trick is to hold onto the ones who see the real you and stay regardless." Jiyong took this advice to heart about his friendship with Daesung.

Growing up next door to Daesung his entire life, Jiyong has been there through it all. He was there for Daesung’s parent’s messy divorce, and the following lost years filled filled with sneaking out late at night and not remembering anything the next morning. Jiyong was there the one day he thought Daesung wouldn't make it. He was there to hold Daesung's head back as he threw up last night's liquor. Jiyong was the one who looked him in the eyes, and told him to get his shit together and helped him follow through.

Daesung has been there to see Jiyong grow into himself. He was there when Jiyong decided that he was going to wear a skirt to school because he felt like it. He was there to kick the other kids in the shins when they made fun of Jiyong. He was there for Jiyong's gay awakening, and was the first person that Jiyong came out to. He was there for the tears, the fear of rejection, and to tell Jiyong that he's loved beyond belief.

There is an unbreakable and undescribable bond between two people who have seen each other through the highs and lows. Jiyong and Daesung may not travel in the same social circles at school, but at the end of the day they know that the other one will always be there for him.

“Where is this coming from?” Jiyong asks, voice soft and taking a long drag of the joint.

Daesung sighs. “Forget about it.” He moves to stand but Jiyong places a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, no. Whatever this is, it’s eating you alive. I got time and two functioning ears.”

Daesung motions for Jiyong to hand him the joint. After taking a drag, he lets out a deep breath. “I think I’m in love."

“Oh? That’s a good thing, Daesung! Why are you so sad? You should be out celebrating! Not sitting here being a sad sack.”

Drawing his knees to his chest, Daesung wraps his arms around himself as if he’s trying to disappear. “You don’t understand. I don’t know what to do. You know my past. People like me don’t fall in love.”

Sadly, Jiyong knows what Daesung is thinking.

During his parents divorce, Daesung was put in the middle of a nasty custody battle, used as a pawn in his parent's attempt at revenge against one another. The two people who he through loved him unconditionally turned him into an object to win. The result was a son with dark eye circles and a stone wall built around his heart.

“Your parents’ actions don’t define you, Daesung. You know that.” The two of them had a rehashing of this conversation every few months when Daesung woke up in a cold sweat and couldn’t stand to be in the same house as his mother. That’s the exact reason why they’re out on the field behind Jiyong’s house. Daesung would knock on Jiyong’s bedroom window, which was on the first floor of the house, and Jiyong and him would go out to the field, kick back, and smoke a joint.

Daesung peeks up at Jiyong through a small parting in bangs. Ever since Jiyong has known him, the boy has always had his hair reaching his eyes, covering them ever so slightly. A small smile spreads across Jiyong’s face.

“Why are you smiling?” Daesung asks

“I’m thinking about that time in sixth grade when you tried cutting your bangs in the middle of class and Mr. Kim nearly had an aneurysm.”

Daesung laughs at the memory, and a warmth spreads across Jiyong’s heart at the sound. His oldest friend has been through a lot, but he still manages to laugh and smile. “Took my a whole three months until my hair was back to normal.”

Jiyong pulls Daesung in so that they two boys are sitting side by side, shoulders brushing as they stared up at the night sky. They sit in silence for a minutes, the only sound is the hum of the cicadas in the trees above their heads.

“Who is it? The person you’re in love with, if you don’t mind asking,” Jiyong says once he feels the tension leaving Daesung’s body.

"Her name is Sooyoung."

Jiyong’s eyes light up in recognition. “Ah! The girl who works at the gas station on the corner of Pine Street and Fifth.”

Daesung gives him an incredulous look. “You know her?”

“I know everyone, silly,” Jiyong says, rolling his eyes. “You should know that by now.”

Daesung raises his eyebrows.

“Fine. Youngbae used to work there last summer, so I hung around that area a lot. Mostly because he could get me a good discount on milkshakes. She's a cool girl, though. I don't see what you're worried about.”

Daesung groans and lies down on the blanket, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Everything. First of all, she's older than me! She won't want to date some random high school boy…”

“We graduate in a month. Besides, she's only a year older than you. You're acting like she's thirty with two kids, an ex husband, and a mortgage.”

Daesung groans, still unconvinced. “I’ve hung out with her a couple of times, but I don’t know if she just sees me as a friend.”

“You never know until you ask, my friend. Life is a runaway train. It’s not going to stop for anybody. You have to jump and hold on.”

“Spoken like a true stoner.”

Jiyong shrugs. “Well, I am. Really stoned, that is. But seriously, Daesung. I don’t know why you think talking to me is going to help you realize if Sooyoung likes you back. She’s hung out with you, which means, besides having bad taste, she doesn’t despise you. So that’s good.”

"You’re hanging out with me right now. What does that say about you?”

“It says that I am fulfilling my mandatory thirty hours of service for graduation. Now go out and ask Sooyoung out!”

“Jiyong, it’s nearly midnight.”

Jiyong groans. “Fine, do it tomorrow at a more human hour.”

Daesung sighs. “Maybe. It's too late for me to think.”

"Runaway train, Daesung."

"Yeah, yeah." Daesung takes the last puff of the joint before putting out on the ground, crushing it under his feet. “We should probably head inside.” Jiyong nods his head and leans down to roll up the well-worn blanket.

Walking slowly, the two boys cross the large field back towards their houses. The coarse grass digs into the backs of their heels as they hold their shoes in their hands, but neither of them mind as the beautiful April night filled with twinkling stars and the hum of cicadas eases them.

Reaching Daesung’s house first, Jiyong is about to say goodnight before something else crosses his mind. “By the way, what did you mean earlier? When you said that I’m in love?”

Daesung blinks at him like he’s stupid. “Because you’re in love with Seunghyun,” he says it as if it’s a fact of life, like water is wet and don’t eat yellow snow. Turning around, he he starts walking up the front steps to his house, but Jiyong doesn't budge.

“What are you talking about? You think I’m in love with Seunghyun?” Jiyong says, grabbing Daesung’s hand so he can’t walk any further.

Daesung only smiles and gently tugs his hand out of Jiyong’s grasp. “Goodnight, Jiyong,” he says and disappears through his front door.

Jiyong is left outside alone with the moon and his thoughts. 

“Dammit. Maybe that coconut headed asshole is right.”

  
  


 

 


End file.
